


Carlos Tries to Go Home

by NightValeMushroomFarmer



Series: Carlos' Backstory [2]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, back story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightValeMushroomFarmer/pseuds/NightValeMushroomFarmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Released from his contract with the Vague but Menacing Government Agency, Carlos goes home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carlos Tries to Go Home

The Vague, but Menacing government agency dumped Carlos at Union Station in New York with a big check and expired id. It took him several hours to walk to the university and find his old friend, Professor John Smith. The Professor put Carlos up overnight and provided him with enough cash to take a bus to Chicago, a couple of paper backs, and some food. There was no one else he really was familiar with in New York. 

Family was in Chicago. Carlos' mom was a teen when she had him and Carlos was raised by his grandmother. She was already busy with her own. There were marriages, step siblings, divorces, and new marriages. The family was divided long before Carlos left. He really just wanted to see his grandmother. She had the same phone number, but not the same apartment. It was close to six years since Carlos had been back and the old neighborhood gentrified. Forcing his grandmother out. 

She was glad to see Carlos, but had to go to work. There were new faces in the apartment. Young, urban, dangerous faces. These were his aunt's and uncle's kids and their kids. Carlos plopped on the couch to think. 

"Who the fuck are you!" some 15 year old boy spat at Carlos. He was so shocked, Carlos looked around the grungy over stuffed apartment, before pointing at himself and saying, "me?" 

"Yea, motherfucker, what are you doing in my house!" the kid pumped himself to look as tough as he could, and all Carlos could do was laugh. "Ok, this is Maria Garcia's apartment and she's my grandmother. I'm Carlos." 

A pregnant teen girl came out the bedroom, "Oh yea, uncle Carlos. You been gone for a while. What, Jail?" The girl lit a cigarette. Carlos mumbled that she probably shouldn't be doing that before turning to the boy. "No, I was, eh, in the military." The boy lit up. "What kind of gun did you have? I have a glock", which the kid pulled out from his waist band. Carlos decided that this was not the place to be.

Maria had worked for the same meat processing plant for 30 years. Carlos had worked there for one summer. It was awful. Maria had seniority and was planning on retiring with full union benefits. She just had to keep working until then. Carlos waited outside of the plant until Maria went on break. 

He told her that he loved her. Missed her. Was so sorry that he wasn't there for her. The small, older woman hugged Carlos back and patted his back. It was ok. Carlos asked if he could take her out. Go have some lunch. She said no. She had to work. Carlos understood. He had one last friend that he really trusted to call. 

George lived just outside of Chicago. He wanted to live in the city, but like many other working class people, he'd been driven out by cost and taxes. His long suffering wife, Rita, wished he'd finally stop complaining and just accept their neighborhood. They welcomed him in, happily. 

Rita adored Carlos. He was the only person she could show her spread sheets about tomato growth and he would understand. She had a scientific mind that she had set to growing the best tomatoes she could. There was different sheets for romas, beefsteaks, cherry tomatoes. 

Carlos sat up with Rita as they drank sparkling wine coolers in her backyard. "I don't know what I want to do" Carlos told her. Rita reached over and grabbed Carlos' hand. She told him that it was ok. Life was scary. He had been giving a great opportunity to figure out what he wanted to do with his life before being saddled with a mortgage, car payment, a baby. Rita went really quiet. She wanted the baby and had not been blessed with one despite the invasive procedures she endured. 

"Carlos, you'll find what makes you happy." She left him to stare at the few stars he could see thought the light pollution.

What would make Carlos happy? To be in a lab? To do important work? To have a partner? 

It was less than a week before Carlos was on the road again. A friend outside of Seattle said it would be cool if Carlos crashed with him for a couple of days. He was married and had a kid, but it should be still ok.


End file.
